The Noose
by dabbling
Summary: When Hoss is accused of murder, it's up to his family to find out the truth and keep him from the noose.
1. Chapter 1

A/N This is another that was previously published on Behind the Wagon. Features the whole family.

* * *

The Noose

Chapter 1

Little Joe stepped after his frowning brother, and halted when he realized where Adam was going. Adam knocked on the door of the house, letting his hand drop next to the sign. It read: "M. A. Clearwater, M.D."

"I'm sorry, the doctor's not in," the young girl said.

"Well, maybe you can help us," Adam suggested. "We were supposed to meet our brother here in Bridgeport, but we haven't seen hide nor hair of him. He's a big fella, name of Cartwright?"

"I'm sorry, I really don't know. You'll have to ask the doctor."

Adam thanked the lady and tipped his hat, turning to see his younger brother scowling at him. "What?" he demanded.

"He's probably just camped out someplace outside of town. I don't see why you gotta assume the worst!"

The older man bit his lip. "Because I know Hoss, and he said he'd be here. If he's not, he ran into trouble." He stomped off the porch, bumping Joe with his shoulder as he passed.

Joe could feel his muscles tense as he watched Adam go. Adam was right. Something had to be terribly wrong. With a gulp, he followed his brother straight to the Sheriff's office.

"Afternoon," Adam said as he entered, removing his hat.

"Afternoon," the Sheriff replied, taking his feet down off of his desk. "What can I do for you?"

Joe entered and removed his own hat. Turning slightly, Adam saw who it was and turned back to the Sheriff. "My brother and I were supposed to meet our other brother this morning, and we haven't been able to find him. I wonder if you might have seen him? Big fella, named Cartwright. Name's Eric, but we all call him Hoss."

Something about the Sheriff's face changed. He stood up slowly and tilted his head towards the heavy doors that separated the office from the cell block. "Doctor's in with him right now. You boys take off your gunbelts and you can see him just as soon as the Doc's through."

Adam and Joe exchanged quick, worried glances and removed their belts. "Why's he in jail?" Adam asked.

"Brought in for murder."

"Why the doctor?" Joe asked hurriedly.

"A group of vigilantes got ahold of him before my Posse did. Don't worry, though. He's safe now."

A shout from the cell block drew everyone's attention. "Heck? I'm through, now."

The Sheriff picked up his keys and led the boys to the cell block. He unlocked the door, let the doctor out and the two Cartwrights in. The boys didn't hear the cell door locking behind them. They were overwhelmed by the sight of their ailing brother.

Adam, and then Joe, knelt down beside the cot. Hoss opened his eyes and slowly rolled his head towards them. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly and they could see a few of his teeth. "Howdy, fellas."

The boys returned the greeting by touching him. Adam stroked his hair back and Joe petted his hand a couple of times.

"I reckon I... got myself into a real... pickle this time," Hoss explained. His older brother placed two fingers under his chin. He lifted, and turned his head, revealing the bruises and burns on his neck. "That Sheriff in there... he saved me from bein' lynched. I think he's a... good man," Hoss explained. The two watched Hoss swallow, and the semblance of a smile disappeared as he felt the pain in his neck.

"Don't you worry, Hoss," said Joe, "we're here now. We'll help you outta this."

"Yeah, you just rest up, little brother," Adam agreed, giving his hair a final stroke before standing. He gripped Joe's arm tightly and forced him to the door. In a moment the Sheriff opened the cell door and let them out. Both boys gave their brother a final glance before following the man back into his office.

Adam was relieved to see the doctor was still there. "Doctor?"

Anticipating the question, the man raised his hands. The gesture caused both Cartwrights to stop moving. "He was hurt pretty bad by that lynch mob," the man explanied. "He's got plenty of bruising, cracked ribs, and several spur-cuts on his chest and abdomen. He'll recover from the injuries. There's no doubt of that." The doctor glanced at his friend, the Sheriff, guiltily. He was never comfortable nursing a man's wounds so he would be well enough to be executed.

"The circuit judge is very busy these days. He asked me to notify him when the prisoner is well enough to stand trial, and then he'll make the trip down here." The Sheriff tucked his shirt in carefully, then sat down at his desk chair.

"Now just who is it that my brother supposedly killed?" The irritation in Adam's voice was unmistakeable.

"Fella named Corey Watts. Your brother brawled with him the other night at the saloon, and lots of folks heard him threaten him. Next mornin', ole Corey's body was found on the main road about a mile outta town, shot in the back. Caliber matches your brother's gun, too."

"Heck, I'll be headin' back to the office now. I'll be back after supper to check on him." The Doc slipped his hat onto his head and turned toward the door. He was stopped by both Adam and Joe, who shook his hand and thanked him for helping their brother. His gentle touch was evident when the door made hardly a sound as it caught behind him.

"Sheriff, Hoss would never shoot a man in the back!" Little Joe's voice was high and pleading.

"I hear what you're sayin', son, but the evidence is pointin' straight at him. If you're of a mind, you're welcome to go on out and see what you can find, but hear me now, and hear me clear: Don't get no ideas of bustin' him outta here. As long as he's in my jail, he'll be safe and given the full protection of the law, but if he busts out, him and anybody who helps him will have my Colt to reckon with." He punctuated his monologue by smacking the butt of his gun. "There's plenty of folks in this town that know I mean what I say."

Slowly, Adam turned and walked out the door. Joe followed, and the two stood on the porch, gazing out on the street but seeing nothing but their injured brother and hearing nothing but the Sheriff's threat.

"What are we gonna do, Adam?" Joe asked. In his heart, he wanted to run right out and find the killer, but the images of Hoss grimacing on the bunk in the jail cell kept his feet planted firmly.

"Well, one of us has to stay here, make sure Hoss is all right."

"Let me go after him, Adam. I'll find him."

Adam turned his gaze to his brother, and noticed the crimson flush that was spreading up the boy's neck and into his cheeks. He sighed heavily. "No, Joe, I think it might be better if you stay." He saw the anger flash in Joe's eyes and spoke quickly to beat the storm that he was sure was coming. "At least until Pa can get here. Then you can join me." He reached out his hand and grasped the boy's arm. "Look, Joe, you know as well as I do that Hoss needs our help. The thing is, he needs it here and," he gestured with his free hand, "out there. Stay with him, Joe. I'll keep you informed as best I can, and leave a trail for you if I'm onto something."

Finally, Joe dropped his head and nodded.

Adam slapped his arm. "I'm gonna go wire Pa. I'll come back and see Hoss, then head out." Adam strode across the street and Joe went back inside.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Between the knot in his stomach and the jostling of the stage, Ben wasn't sure if he'd make the trip without losing his breakfast. He still held the telegram in his sweaty palm, but he no longer needed to read it.

Pa- Stop. Hoss in jail for murder in Bridgeport. Stop. Hurt badly by lynch mob. Stop. Come quickly. Stop. -Adam.

Ben closed his eyes and fought the lurching of his stomach. He had so many questions, but it wouldn't do any good to worry about them now, he'd get no answers until he reached Bridgeport.

* * *

Adam sat outside with his brother, and unwrapped the sandwich he'd just bought. He took a bite, then began. "Turns out this Watts had a couple of enemies. I'm gonna pay 'em a call, see if they had somethin' to do with it." He stopped and looked at his little brother, who was fingering his sandwich, but had yet to take a bite. "You better eat some of that, Joe. Gotta keep your strength up."

"What if we can't find him, Adam?"

"Joe." His voice was quiet and soft. "Joe, look at me."

Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet his brother's. Adam's stare was hard, and there was a fire there that Joe knew well.

"We'll find him, Joe. Hoss'll come home with us, and everything'll go back to normal." Adam slapped him on the back and stood up. "Finish that sandwich." With that, he went inside, already removing his gunbelt.

* * *

The Lernette Place was a small place, consisting of an old farmhouse, a barn, and what looked to be a wash-house. The house itself was little more than a shack. Adam counted three small children playing and he heard the distinct sound of men working nearby. He dismounted and walked Sport around the side of the house, closer to the grunts and stacatto speech of the working men. At the back of the house, he saw a man and two teenage boys digging furiously.

"Hello!" Adam called.

The three stopped, and leaned on their shovels. The elder man wiped his face with his handkerchief and squinted up at him. "Who is that, there?"

"You don't know me, Mr. Lernette. My name's Adam Cartwright. I was wonderin' if I could talk with you."

The man seemed friendly enough. "Willard, fetch my specks while I climb outta this hole." The boy hopped out easily and gathered his Pa's spectacles from a stump nearby. Adam offered the man a hand up out of the hole. "What can I do for you, Cartwright?" He asked as he carefully placed the wires of his spectacles over his ears.

"Mr. Lernette, I'll get right to the point. My brother is in jail, accused of the murder of Corey Watts."

Adam watched the man's jaw set and twitch, just once. "I can't say I'm sorry that man's left this world."

"Well, Mr. Lernette, the fact is, my brother's innocent, and I'm trying to get as much information as I can. Would you mind tellin' me where you were two nights ago?"

The man chuckled, and gestured to the hole. "Same place I been all week. Either in this leviathan of a cellar, or in my bed, nursing my aching limbs."

Adam glanced at the hole, and mentally calculated how much digging the three could have accomplished each day. It was clear the man was being truthful. He felt his cheeks get a little rosy.

"Look, Cartwright, I realize the word around town is that I hated Corey Watts. Fact is, I despised him. But I ain't no murderer. I do my best just to feed my family and keep this old farm a-standin'. If your brother's innocent, then I wish you the best." He gave Adam a genuine smile, removed his glasses, and turned back to his sons. "We'd best get back to diggin', boys." They helped him back down into the hole and handed him a shovel, which he immediately put to use.

"Thank you," Adam said as he mounted Sport and rode away.

* * *

"Like a drink, son?" Sheriff Flynt asked.

Joe straightened up from leaning against the back of the chair and shook off his thoughts. "Hmm? Yessir, thank you."

Heck poured him a shot of whiskey and one for himself. He held out the glass and watched the young man drink it. His years of public service had left him with an uncanny ability to survey a human being and determine his true character with an accuracy that carnival workers would have envied. The more he saw of these Cartwrights, the more he doubted that the man in his jail was a murderer.

"The Doc'll be finished with him soon enough. If you want, I'll lock you up with him for the night."

Joe smiled slightly. "Thank you, Sheriff, I might take you up on that." A cry of pain from the other room drew the attention of both men. Joe took a step toward the door, then stopped. The cell was quite small, and the doctor needed room to work. He decided that conversing with the Sheriff was the smartest thing to do right now. First of all, it would distract him from his thoughts of what Hoss was going through, and secondly, it just might convince the Sheriff that Hoss was innocent. "Hoss told us you saved his life."

Heck shrugged. "I was just doin' my job. I was lucky I got there in time." He drank his whiskey in one swig, remembering how Hoss' nearly unconscious form had been strung up, the horse's rump slapped, and how he'd just barely managed to slice the other end of the rope with his hunting knife in time. The rope hadn't broken completely, and the big man had been choked a little before his weight broke the rope and sent him tumbling to the ground. "I almost didn't," Heck said, feeling a shiver up his spine.

"Well, anyway, I thank you. They sure woulda been hangin' the wrong man..."

After a pause, Heck poured them both another shot. "Whatta you fellas do, Cartwright?"

"My Pa owns a big ranch up Virginia City way, the Ponderosa. I'm surprised you haven't heard of it."

"Actually, I have. I just wasn't sure if that was you all or some other bunch of Cartwrights. What brought you down this-a-way?"

"Hoss just sold a sire to a fella down in Kings Canyon. Adam and I had a couple of days off, so we told him we'd meet him here and escort him home." The Sheriff was very hard to read. Joe wasn't sure if he was just making smalltalk or if he was being interrogated.

"What kind of sire?"

"It was a gray Percheron. We don't usually deal in draft horses, but Hoss is thinking about making a go of it, and this was his first sale." The doctor yelled from the cell, and Joe waited while the Sheriff retrieved the man from the cell. "How is he, Doc?" Joe asked.

"He's got just a touch of fever from those cuts. Otherwise, he's recovering nicely. I've given him some medicine. If you boys'll watch and make sure the fever doesn't get too high, he should be just fine."

Joe looked at Heck. "Sheriff Flynt, I reckon I would like to spend the night in there."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The sun was just beginning to set when Adam began searching the scene of the crime for any clues the Sheriff might have missed. He reached up, scratching at the stubble on his face, his eyes searching the ground for anything, however slight, that might help him unravel this mystery.

The fading light was tricking his eyes. Twice he'd thought he'd found something, only to find nothing on the ground once he moved up close. "One more..." he thought, "If it happens again I'll quit."

Just then, as if on cue, Adam found two clues: hoofprints, distinctive because one side of the shoe was much thicker than the other, and a bloody handkerchief. Both were found just off the main road, in a patch of weeds. Adam stared at the print, memorizing it, and stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket. Then he walked over to Sport and led him to a spot off the road to make camp.

* * *

"Shhh, brother, it's just a bad dream, you're all right. You're with me, now." Joe wiped his forehead with a cold rag and hoped that he was helping.

Hoss whimpered, "I didn't! I didn't do it! No! Stop!"

"Shhh..." Joe said, as he wet the rag, wrung it out, and reapplied it.

He awoke with a jerk, his eyes filled with fear. He searched the darkness until he saw Joe, then blinked. "Joe?" he whispered weakly.

"I'm right here, Hoss," he said, repeating the process with the rag.

"Where are we?" In the darkness Hoss couldn't make out his surroundings.

Swallowing hard, Joe licked his lips and replied, "In a jail, Hoss. Do you remember?"

Hoss swallowed, too, feeling the pain in his bruised throat. "Jail? Joe..." he began, but tears welled up in his eyes. "It hurts, Joe," he whispered.

Joe felt tears in his own eyes. "I know it, brother, but don't you worry. Pa'll be here tomorrow, and Adam, why he's out finding the proof that'll get you outta jail and back home where you belong." Hoss licked his lips, and Joe reached for the glass of water on the floor. "Want some water, Hoss?"

The big man mouthed a "yeah," but no sound came out. Joe lifted him and watched him go through the steps of taking a painful drink, then another. He laid him down gently and replaced the rag on his head. "Just relax, Hoss, everything's gonna be all right."

He'd just drifted off to sleep, when Joe heard a pounding on the door of the office. He craned his neck, listening, and was rewarded when he heard his father's deep voice in the next room.

"All right, all right, just take off your gunbelt..." Flynt sounded a little irritated, but Joe looked out the window at the darkness and figured it must be nigh on three o'clock in the morning. When the wooden door opened, Joe stood, but refrained from greeting his Pa for fear of waking Hoss. Ben waited impatiently while Flynt opened the cell door and hurried in as soon as it was open. He touched Joe on the sleeve and looked down at Hoss.

Flynt locked them both in and retired to the other room, and his own bunk.

Looking over the marks on his son's body, Ben felt a pang upon seeing each one. He removed the rag and felt the man's head with his hand. After rinsing and replacing the rag, he sat down on the other bunk next to his son. "What's goin' on here, Joseph?"

Joseph explained what he knew, including the last he'd heard from Adam and the latest report from the doctor. "I didn't expect you until tomorrow, Pa."

"Yes, well, I knew the man at the stage office in Walker. He loaned me a horse, and I left right away." Ben walked back over to Hoss and bathed his face again. He could feel the aching of his heart as he looked at the vicious marks on his son's neck.

Knowing his Pa would want to stay up with Hoss, Joe lay down on the bunk and fell asleep immediately.

* * *

In the morning, after checking the area once again for clues, Adam mounted up and rode back to Bridgeport. He tethered Sport to the rail outside Flynt's office, and hurried inside, removing his gunbelt as he entered.

"Well, now, Adam is it?" Adam nodded and Heck turned towards the cell block. "At least one of you fellas is gonna have to come outta there." He carried the keys over, unlocked the door, and watched the brief reunion. Joe exited the cell, leaving his brothers and Pa inside. He hung onto the bars after Heck had locked it, so that he could talk with them.

"Definitely not a murderer," Heck thought as he left. He gathered his hat and left the office entirely, first making sure the loop that held the cell keys was hanging off his gun belt, and the Cartwright guns were locked up.

"How's he doin', Pa?" Adam asked.

"He's had a rough night, but his fever seems to have subsided."

"What'd you find, Adam?" Joe asked, his fingers turning white from his grip on the bars.

"Well, Joe, I'd just about given up, when I found this." He removed the handkerchief from his pocket and showed it to his family. "I think this belongs to whomever shot Watts."

"You figure Watts got a shot off before he was killed?"

"Maybe so. At any rate, this doesn't belong to Hoss. We'll have to check with the Sheriff and see if Hoss still had his with him, though."

"What do you intend doing now, son?"

"Well, Pa, first I need to talk with the Sheriff, and then I thought Joe and I could ride out, try to get to the bottom of this."

The older man nodded, and for the first time Adam noticed the dark circles around his eyes. Joe spoke up first. "Pa, why don't you try and grab some shuteye before Adam and I head out?"

After checking Hoss for fever again, Ben nodded and placed himself on the opposite bunk, allowing Adam to sit in vigil over his brother.

* * *

It had been several hours, and although Hoss still had a touch of a fever, it was much reduced from the night. As Ben reached the spoon towards his face, Hoss squirmed and turned away. "C'mon, son, just two more bites, that's all."

Reluctantly, Hoss turned his head back and accepted the two spoonfuls of broth from his father. True to his word, Ben set the food aside once Hoss had eaten the two bites. He removed one of the pillows that was propping his son up and helped him to get settled again.

"You all right, son?" Ben's voice was soft, revealing the tenderness so often hidden behind his gruff frame.

"Yeah, Pa," Hoss replied. Even though he was very tired, Hoss could not shut his eyes. He stared at the ceiling for several minutes, and his mind began whirling with thoughts. "I'm gonna hang, ain't I, Pa?"

The words struck Ben like a slap in the face. "Hoss, look at me." He waited until his son had done his bidding. "Your brothers are out with the Sheriff right now finding the proof they need to clear you. We'll prove your innocence. You just gotta believe it, son." He punctuated the last remark with a gentle squeeze to Hoss' arm.

Hoss frowned and momentarily shut his eyes. He could still feel the noose around his neck only a few days before, and he remembered that horrible pain when the horse ran out from under him, and the struggle to breathe for the few moments that he was on the ground until the Sheriff's deputy had loosed it from his neck. He felt a tear slip down his cheek and he wiped it away angrily.

Ben sat by and patted his son's arm, fighting back the knot in his own throat. Finally, after several minutes, Hoss seemed to have recovered. "Hoss, can you tell me what happened between you and Watts?"

He licked his lips and swallowed. "Well, Pa, I made good time comin' back from King's Canyon. I got in early and went straight to the saloon. While I was in there, I noticed this fella botherin' one of the girls. She couldn't get him to lay off her, kept pushin' him away and sayin' no, but he kept grabbin' at her. So I walked over and stood over him, you know, and I said I didn't figure the girl wanted his company right then. He got all ornery and took a swing at me, and we fought. I threw him out the saloon doors and told him if I ever seen him botherin' her again, I'd kill him." Hoss' eyes drifted over to his father. "I reckon I shouldn't o' said that, huh?" He let his eyes move back to the ceiling. "I looked for the girl when I went back inside, but she weren't nowhere to be found." He paused, allowing a pain to run its course. "I went over to the hotel after that, but they's all full up, so I rode outta town and set up camp."

Ben watched his son's eyes dull with the memories. "In the mornin', them fellas came out, put a gun to my head, tellin' me I killed him. One of 'em got loose from the others and knocked me on the head, then all I know is I was on the ground, bein' kicked and punched from every which way, until they put me on a horse and wrapped that noose around my neck..."

Ben's voice came out raspy. He stroked his son's hair. "We'll get you outta this fix, son. We'll get you outta this."

* * *

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Pinkle."

"Good afternoon, Sheriff, what can I do for you?" The woman was dressed plainly, her dress fraying slightly at the hem and the cuffs of her sleeves. A small child stood by her, clinging to her leg through her skirt.

"I wonder if I might talk with you a few moments. These fellas here are Cartwrights, Adam and Joe." As he gestured to each man, they nodded slightly to the woman.

"How do you do?" She said politely. "Well, come on in. I'll fix some coffee." She peeled the child from her side and cupped his cheek in her hand. "Jimmy, you run along and play with your horses, now." The child smiled at her and ran to his room. He retrieved the small wooden horses there and raced out to the front porch with them.

The furnishings were sparse, and worn, but the house was clean. Mrs. Pinkle seemed to be living the life of one who was barely scraping by. She poured coffee for each of them and sat down next to the Sheriff.

"Now, Mollie, I want you to understand why we're here. These boys here, they have a brother. He's down in my jailhouse right now, under charges of murder. They say he's innocent. Frankly, I'm startin' to believe 'em. The thing is, if we don't find some proof of that, those folks in town'll string him up just as quick as anything."

Both Adam and Joe saw a quick flash of fear in her eyes at the mention of murder. She'd covered it well, looking down quickly and taking a sip of her coffee.

"Mollie, were you in town last Tuesday night?"

"Well, yes, Heck, I was." She glanced nervously at the Cartwrights, and then back at Flynt.

"Workin' the saloon again?"

She blushed and raised her napkin to her face, then slowly nodded.

"Did you see Corey Watts there?"

She straightened her body, and dropped the napkin on the table, her jaw set. "Yes, Sheriff, I did. He was up to his usual foolishness, and wouldn't leave me be."

"What made him stop?"

She glanced at the Sheriff, then at the Cartwrights, piecing together just who that big man was. "A man stepped in for me. They fought, and I ran out the back door." She gripped her hands tightly in her lap. "I heard later that he threatened to kill Corey." She shot a look at the Cartwrights after this last sentence.

"Were you aware that Corey was found dead on the road the very next morning?"

"Yes, Martin Usher rode out and told me. I figured he was part of the Posse."

The Sheriff winced at that. Martin hadn't been part of the Posse, he'd been part of the lynch mob. He shoved his regret aside and continued. "How come you didn't ride on into town and let me know you'd seen Corey the night before?"

"Well, you know, Heck, I've got Jimmy to worry about."

"You've brought him into town with you before. Almost every Sunday, if my memory serves me."

Her cheeks flushed red. Adam began to look at the Sheriff with new respect.

"I don't know, Sheriff. I reckon I shoulda, but I didn't."

After taking a sip, the Sheriff smiled. "Good coffee." She smiled politely in response. "How's Everett? Still in Sacramento?"

This time, her smile was sincere, but guarded. "Yes, he's been working very hard."

"You folks doin' all right? You know I'd be glad to help anytime..."

"We're fine," she said curtly.

"All right, then, Mrs. Pinkle, we'll just be on our way." The Sheriff stood. Joe opened his mouth to protest, but Adam shushed him with a firm grip on his arm. The Cartwrights stood as well, and thanked the lady.

The three men gathered on the porch, replacing their hats on their heads.

"Hiya, Jimmy," the Sheriff said.

"Howdy, Sherf," the boy mumbled.

"You seen your Grammy lately?"

"Oh, yeah, Sherf, I seen her t'other night."

The woman picked up her child and held him protectively. "I done told you I went to town t'other night, Sheriff. I don't see why you gotta talk to him about it."

The Sheriff smiled politely and blushed ever so slightly. He tipped his hat to her. "You're right, Mollie. I'm sorry." He untied his horse and mounted up, the Cartwrights following suit. "G'day, Mollie."

She watched them ride away, feeling her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Finally, she noticed her squirming son and put him down.

"We'll head on over to her mother's now, and find out what time she picked up Jimmy."

"Do you think she did it, Sheriff?" Joe asked.

"Naw, Mollie's a good woman. I don't think she'd do somethin' like that. I do think she might know somethin' about it, though."

"Sheriff, who's Everett?" It was Adam, this time, trying to piece the puzzle together in his own mind.

"Mollie's husband. Folks around town figure him as no good, a loafer. Ever since about a year before she had Jimmy, he'd just lay about the house, do an odd job once in a while, but he rarely finished anything. He left for Sacramento about six months ago, and word has it he's workin' and sending Mollie a draft once a month." The Sheriff paused and adjusted his hat. "Course, word also has it that he just run off and Mollie's been gettin' the checks from some distant cousin."

They finished the short ride in silence, and followed the Sheriff to the old lady's front door. He removed his hat, and the others followed suit. He knocked on the door and waited for what seemed an eternity.

"Who is it?" She called from behind the closed door.

"It's Heck Flynt, Mrs. Masters." They waited while she struggled with the bolt on the door. Finally, it creaked open. She didn't actually invite them in, just walked back to her chair as the door opened, propelled by its own weight.

The three men followed her inside. Heck sat down facing her, and the two Cartwrights stood a respectable distance away, watching.

"Are you doing all right, Mrs. Masters? You know these fellas and I could chop some wood for you while we're here."

"That'd be right nice, Heck, thank you." The Sheriff looked up at the boys, and Adam nudged Joe, who reluctantly went outside to chop wood.

"You been watchin' Jimmy much lately, Mrs. Masters?"

"Oh, Mollie brings him by now and then."

"She bring him by last Tuesday?"

"Sure, she did." Her eyes suddenly filled with fire and she fired back at the Sheriff, "Why?"

He smiled. "Honestly, Mrs. Masters, there was a murder that night, and I think your daughter knows somethin' about it."

"Corey Watts. Worthless as a sack of rotten grain."

"Yes, that's true, Mrs. Masters, but I'm the Sheriff, and I have to get to the bottom of these things."

"You should pin a medal on whoever done it."

"What time did Mollie come by to get Jimmy Tuesday night?"

The old woman frowned and stared at the Sheriff. "She spent the night here. Come in during the wee hours. Too tired to travel home." She turned her body to face Adam. "You're mighty quiet, young fella. What's your purpose here?"

He grinned slightly and cleared his throat. "It's my brother's been blamed for the murder. Wrongly, I might add."

She showed a wide smile and said sweetly, "Heck, my stove's been actin' up. Could you have a look at it while you're here?"

"Sure thing, Mrs. Masters."

She threw a hard stare at Adam. "And the pump. It's gettin' so hard to lift I can't hardly fetch myself a glass o' water from it."

"I'll see what I can do," Adam volunteered, smiling slightly.

As the three mounted their horses, Adam remarked to Heck, "That was the strangest investigative technique I've ever seen."

"She's known me since I was a boy. A great woman. Breaks my heart to see her declinin' like this."

"Well, she got a full woodbox and then some, but what did we get for our trouble?" Joe asked.

"Undertaker judges that the murder happened round midnight. So far, looks like my hunch is right."

"What now?" Adam asked, noticing the westward position of the sun.

"I need to head back to the jail, give my deputy a break. Give me some time to think on it, too."

"Prob'ly wouldn't hurt to see how Hoss is doin', brother." Joe was unhappy with the events of the day, and was feeling discouraged.

Adam took off his hat and smoothed back his hair. "You head on in, Joe. I've got some thinkin' to do." He replaced his hat and watched the two ride back towards town. Then he turned Sport back down the road that led to the Pinkle place.

She was hanging laundry when he arrived. He watched from a distance until she went in, then dismounted and crept towards the hanging clothes. All the same, plain, worn dresses, except for one: a green satin dress with lace at the shoulders. "The kind of dress to wear in a saloon," Adam thought. He snuck up closer to the dress and began inspecting it. Sure enough, there was a dark stain on the one of the sleeves. He smiled in satisfaction, but his smile faded when he heard the click of a gun at the house. He turned slowly.

"Just whatta you think you're doin', Mister?"

"Trying to find out who killed Corey Watts." He took a cautious step towards her.

"It don't matter who killed him. He was awful, an animal."

"When they're fixin' to hang my brother for something he didn't do, it does matter."

"You get on out of here."

"All right," he said, "I'll go. But let me tell you one thing. If you know something about this murder, and you let my brother hang for it, then you're just as much an animal as this Watts fella musta been. Even more so." Adam turned angrily and walked back to his horse.

Her hand shook as she trained the weapon on him until he was gone. She turned, walked inside, and burst into tears.

Just before kicking his horse into a gallop, Adam noticed hoofprints in the dried mud of the trail. One side of the shoe was thicker than the other.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ben saw Adam riding up and went out into the street to greet him. He held Sport's bridle while Adam dismounted, then turned the reins over in his fingers as he said a strained "hello."

"What's wrong, Pa? Is Hoss-" His father's hand on his chest stopped him.

Ben shook his head. "The circuit judge is on his way. The doctor said Hoss was healing up fine, and the deputy sent a telegram."

"How long?"

"Three days. I've wired for Harry to come and defend him." Ben tied Sport's reins to the rail. "What about you? Did you find anything else since Joe and Flynt left you?"

Adam frowned, and kicked at the dirt of the street with his boot. "She was there, Pa. Either when it happened or right after it happened. There's blood on the dress she wore that night, and I found the same tracks at her place." Ben put his arm around his son and walked with him into the jailhouse.

* * *

"Hoss, why don't you sit down for a while?"

The big man stood at the cell door, squeezing the bars, and staring out. "I don't wanna sit down, Joe. I reckon I ain't got too much time left to stand, so by gum, I'm gonna do it now."

Joe sighed. "Don't give up like that, Hoss. Harry's the best lawyer there is, you know that. And a reasonable doubt, that's all you need."

He turned angrily towards his brother. "Those people ain't doubtin' nothin', Joe. They done made up their minds." As he said this, Hoss ran his fingers over the remaining scabs on his rope-burned neck.

"Hoss, they haven't finished picking the jury yet. And as soon as they do, if it looks like those are the people chosen, you know Harry will ask for a change of venue."

Hoss turned back to the bars and hung his head. He wanted to be alone, but at the same time, was afraid to be alone. He leaned forward and let the crown of his head tap against the metal.

"Hoss, c'mon, please," Joe pleaded, carefully taking him by the arms and backing him away from the bars.

Hoss allowed his brother to lead him back to the cot. He sat down slowly, wincing when his skin tugged against some stitches. Joe kneeled on the floor in front of his brother, and rested his hands on Hoss' knees.

"Hoss, you remember that time when we were kids, and I got stuck in that cave?"

"I could never forget that, Little Joe, you nearly scared the life outta me that time."

"You remember how scared I was?" Hoss nodded. "If it hadn't o' been for you, Hoss, I'da given up and died that first night. But you kept talkin' to me, tellin' me jokes, and stories, and even though I didn't really listen to what you were sayin', I heard you, Hoss. And the next afternoon, when Pa pulled me out, you were right there, waitin' for me." Joe paused and waited for his brother to look him in the eye. "I'll get you through this, Hoss. Don't be afraid."

To his surprise, Hoss pulled him up into a fierce hug.

* * *

Adam was growing restless. Sheriff Flynt had assured him that Mollie would come through and do the right thing, but time was running out. He rode out to her farm every day and sat on Sport, staring at her house from the road. He knew she'd seen him, because she'd pulled the curtains each time, or called her son inside. Adam had even appealed to the town preacher, hoping that someone would be able to break through to her.

He saw the distress that Hoss was in and it was breaking his heart. Not to mention what it was doing to his Pa, and to Joe. Every time Adam spoke with Hoss, he sensed the disappearance of just a little more hope, and Adam couldn't bear it. He spent less time at the jailhouse and more haunting the girl.

She had a wagon hitched today, and was placing little Jimmy on the seat when she saw Adam's figure again. She glared at him, climbed into the seat, and drove off. Towards her mother's house, Adam saw. He nudged Sport and followed.

She picked up her mother, as well, and then headed toward town. Adam moved off the road to let them pass and received another glare from Mollie. Arriving in town, he watched them check into the hotel, and briefly wondered how she could afford a room. Adam left Sport at the Livery and walked back to the Sheriff's office.

Ben was relieved to see his eldest son. He'd noticed how often Adam was slipping away, and was worried about him.

"Hi, Pa," he said, running his fingers through his hair as he dropped his hat on a table.

"Son," Ben replied. "As soon as Joe comes out, we're gonna go find something to eat, then come back here and spend the night with Hoss. Harry's here, wants to go over some things with him in private." Adam nodded slightly. "They've chosen the jurors. Harry's already submitted a petition for a change of venue."

Adam nodded again, knowing that without a change of venue, his brother's chances were slim. Just then, Joe walked out, followed by the Sheriff, who nodded a greeting to Adam and flopped in his desk chair. The three Cartwrights exited the building, Ben grasping each boy's arm.

Once seated in the restaurant, each man stared at the table, lost in his own thoughts. Joe finally broke the silence. "I don't know if Hoss can hold up through this trial, Pa." The youngest fidgeted with the utensils on the table. "I barely got him through the day," he whispered.

Adam's jaw began to twitch. Ben took a deep breath and said, "God doesn't give us what we can't handle, son. He'll make it. We all will, somehow."

Adam splayed his fingers out flat on the table and grumbled through his teeth, "Why can't she just come out with it, whatever it is?! How can anybody let an innocent man die when they know the truth!"

"Just a minute, Adam. Hoss has not been sentenced yet. If we give up hope, there'll be nothing for him to hold on to."

The eldest boy shook his head and drew his hands back to grip the edge of the table instead. "I'm sorry, Pa, but the Sheriff and I did everything possible, and it all hinges on what that woman will come out and say."

"I wonder if she did it," Joe mused. "That would explain why she's having such a hard time talking about it."

Their plates arrived, and Ben sat back, selected a bite of baked potato, and placed it in his mouth. "The Sheriff doesn't seem to think she'd be capable of killing."

As his father and brother dug into their plates, Adam stuck his fork into a piece of meat and twirled it absently as he stared across the room. "They're in town. The girl and her mother. Checked in at the hotel a while ago."

"Adam." Ben's voice was commanding, and the son looked his father in the eye immediately. "You stay away from them. The trial starts tomorrow morning. Hoss' life could very well depend on her testimony. If you do something to taint her testimony, it could mean your brother's life."

After a moment, Adam let out a sigh and looked down. "I know, Pa, I know."

"Now you eat some of that food, instead of just playing with it."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Sheriff Flynt walked into the courtroom beside Hoss, whose hands were cuffed. The prisoner walked slowly because of his injuries. His family followed a few steps behind him.

Martin Usher had a seat on the aisle, and like all of the others who'd come to see the trial, was standing and jeering the prisoner as he entered. Just as Hoss was passing by, Usher thrust out his fist and socked him in his sore ribs. Hoss buckled, caught by his father, and immediately under the protection of his two brothers. The Sheriff grasped Usher by the collar and the belt, turned him towards the back door and shoved him. His deputy stood at the door. "Get him outta here!" Flynt shouted to the deputy, who caught the man and threw him outside, roughly. The Sheriff then ordered the entire crowd to be seated, ascertained from the Cartwrights that Hoss was all right, helped him up, and continued the trek to the defendant's table, where Harry was waiting. Ben, Adam, and Joe sat on the first bench, directly behind Hoss. The Sheriff took up his position as bailiff of the court, scanning the room for any more troublemakers.

As the judge entered, the group stood. "Be seated," he barked, and the crowd obeyed. Hoss looked up at the jury. To his dismay, he saw three of the men who'd been in the lynch mob. He turned his eyes towards the judge's bench and gently massaged his ribs with one hand. Adam saw Mr. Lernette, and frowned. Joe clenched his fingers around the front edge of the bench seat, and leaned forward.

"Court is now in session. State of California vs. Eric Cartwright. Prosecution, make your remarks." The judge looked to be in his sixties, with a pointed nose, spectacles that hung onto the bottom of his nose, and eyes like daggers.

"Gentlemen of the Jury," he began, as he moved to stand in front of them, "Last Tuesday night, just outside of town, YOUR town, a man was murdered. Shot in the back. This man was maybe not the most popular fella in town. No, he was not the mayor, or the preacher, or even the bartender. But he'd lived here his whole life. And he had a mother," the man nodded towards an elderly lady sitting behind the prosecutor's bench, "and a brother, and a little nephew." He nodded to these two spectators, as well. "Corey was a man like many of you... livin' in the town he was born in, workin' day after day, supporting his dear mother...spending an evenin' now and then in the local saloon... repentin' for those evenin's on Sunday morning, just like many of you. But unlike you, when Corey left the saloon last Tuesday night, he was followed. He was followed nearly two miles outside of town, and there in the pitch dark, he was shot down. Shot in the back, unable to even defend himself against his attacker. Then he was left to lie in the cold street, feeling his life seeping out of his body in a pool of red." The lawyer stopped to wipe his face with his handkerchief. He lowered his voice. "Gentlemen, I intend to prove to you that this man," he threw out his arm and pointed a finger at Hoss, "a stranger in our town, all the way from Nevada Territory, cut down our friend and neighbor, without even giving him the chance to see his killer. And it will be up to you to see that justice is done." He paused to look each juror in the eye, then silently walked back to his seat.

Harry rose. "Gentleman, a tragedy has happened here. One of your neighbors was killed, shot in the back as my colleague has pointed out." Harry faced the jurors and looked them each in the eye. "And my client, who was just passing through, on the way home from a long business trip, happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He happened to be gentleman enough to intervene on behalf of a lady of your town, also your neighbor... and because of this, has been branded a murderer and is facing a death sentence. Which of you has not taken a journey to another town, where all the faces are unfamiliar? Have you ever been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Can you imagine the pain my client has suffered, at the hands of vigilantes, who nearly succeeded in hanging him, before there was even an opportunity for the wheel of justice to begin to turn? Can you imagine how he suffers even now, knowing his innocence, and seeing nothing but unfamiliar faces judging him? And it is your job to judge him, my colleague was correct. But if you have a reasonable doubt about my client's involvement in this tragedy, you have a moral obligation to give him his life back. Eric Cartwright is innocent." He placed a hand over his heart. "I know it in the depths of my soul. But you... you're the only ones who can save him now." As he turned to go back to his seat, Harry stared at Mollie Pinkle, allowing his final words to bore into her.

"Prosecution will call his first witness." The judge sounded bored, and Joe was irritated by it. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back until his back smacked the rest behind him.

"Prosecution calls Darrion Finch."

Hoss sat stone still during the morning's testimony. He tried to listen to what was being said, but found his mind wandering. He longed to have just one more ride on the Ponderosa, to smell the pines and see the bright wildflowers mixed into the prairie grasses that the horses loved to graze on. He wished that he had just one more chance to take a swim in the lake, and hear a red-tail screech overhead.

Harry nudged him, and Hoss looked around. The crowd was dispersing, court having recessed for lunch. He felt his father grip his elbow. "We'll stay right with you, son, all through lunch." The four Cartwrights stood and filed out of the courtroom in the company of the Sheriff and his Deputy. Ben was relieved to see the doctor waiting for them at the jailhouse.

"Let me have a look at you, sonny," he said kindly to Hoss. Hoss walked into the cell and began unbuttoning his shirt.

The Sheriff bolted the door of his office, and set the deputy to watching out the window. Before long, the deputy unlocked the door and allowed two boys in, loaded down with trays of food. After they left, he latched the door again.

"Harry's gonna be able to punch holes through everything that they've said so far, Hoss. You ain't got a thing to worry about." In spite of the gloomy atmosphere, Joe's optimism was sincere.

"I'm glad you were listenin', Joe, cuz I didn't hear a word they said." Hoss took a bite of the biscuit that came with his fried chicken, and forced himself to swallow it.

"Well, Harry starts after lunch, and he's got quite a crowd lined up as witnesses."

They listened to the knock on the door and the man being let in. Harry walked back to the cell, where he joined the Cartwrights. "Don't get discouraged, Hoss. Things are going just as I expected so far. How ya holdin' up?" he asked, placing a friendly hand on the big man's shoulder.

When Hoss' eyes met his, the fear there was unmistakeable. "All right, I reckon..." he said unconvincingly.

Harry smiled and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Trust me, son. Things are gonna change for the better, soon." With that, he offered a final smile and walked out.

* * *

Hoss sat nervously on the witness stand. He had listened patiently all afternoon, as witness after witness talked about how much they disliked Corey Watts. Harry had told him he would save his testimony for last, but the girl had not returned to the courtroom after lunch, and so he'd not been able to call her. Hoss raised a hand and smoothed down his unruly hair. "What was the question again, Mr. Winters?"

"Why did you come to Bridgeport, Mr. Cartwright?"

"Oh, well, I was on my way home. I just sold a draft horse, a handsome gray Percheron, to this ole' boy in Kings Canyon. He was wantin' a good sire, and I'm tryin' to make a go of dealin' draft horses...Anyhow, I was on my way back home, and my brothers'd wired me that they had a couple days off and would meet me here in Bridgeport, then we could head on home together." He glanced up at the jury and smiled slightly, nervously. Hoss rubbed his sweaty hands together.

"Did you know Corey Watts, Mr. Cartwright?"

"Uh, no sir, no I didn't. I run into him when I went into the saloon Tuesday. I ordered a drink, and was sittin' there sippin' on it, when I noticed a bit of a scuffle behind me. I looked, and I seen that feller Watts with this lady. She was tellin' him no, and to leave her alone and such, and he just kept on a-comin'. Well, she sure didn't want his company, and so I stood up and told him real nice that I didn't figure she wanted his company right then, and he took a swing at me. We traded a few punches, and I threw him out the door." Hoss ran his hand over his hair again, only this time the effect was to make it more of a mess, rather than to fix it.

"I reckon I was so riled by then, that when I tossed him outside, I threatened him," Hoss said quietly, and his cheeks flushed.

"What did you do next, Mr. Cartwright?"

"Well, I went back inside and looked for the lady, but I didn't see her nowhere, so I finished my drink and went over to the hotel. Only they didn't have any spare rooms, so I gathered my horse and things and rode back outta town to set up camp for the night. My brothers weren't due in Bridgeport until Wednesday, you see."

"Where did you camp?"

"About three miles outta town, just off the main road, there was this pretty little gully right next to a creek. I made camp there for the night, and it was a fine, peaceful night, until them people found me in the morning."

Harry stood very close to Hoss now, and his voice was almost a whisper. "What people, Mr. Cartwright?"

"Townfolk, I guess. They thought I'd kilt Mr. Watts, and they was out for blood." Hoss' eyes grew dark, and he stared at the back wall. The entire courtroom waited for him to proceed, but he did not.

"They beat you, Mr. Cartwright?"

He nodded his head and a choked "yeah" issued from his mouth.

"They tried to hang you?"

Hoss hand went up to his throat. He felt at it, and again whispered, "Yes."

"Objection, Your Honor. Relevance?"

"Sustained." The judge looked at Harry, who nodded and paused a moment before continuing.

Harry's voice was loud this time. "Mr. Cartwright, did you kill Corey Watts?"

Hoss' eyes leapt up to the attorney's. "No, sir, I did not."

All of the Cartwrights gripped their chairs tightly and looked at the jury, hoping beyond hope that they would see the truth.

"No more questions, Your Honor."

"Cross-examine?" The prosecuting attorney stood in response. He walked over and stood in front of Hoss.

"You're a pretty big man, aren't you Mr. Cartwright?"

"Yes sir, I reckon I am."

"Folks call you Hoss, isn't that right?"

"Yes, sir, they do."

"You like to fight, Hoss?"

"Sure I like to have a fair match now and then, any man does."

Adam frowned. He knew exactly where this was headed, and he knew his brother's honest answers would ruin everything.

"Did you enjoy the fight at the saloon Tuesday night?"

"No, sir, that was different. I was glad to help out the lady, but I didn't particularly enjoy fightin' that feller."

"Mr. Watts, you mean?"

"Yeah, that's the only man I fought Tuesday night."

A chuckle spread through the crowd, but the jury sat stone-faced.

"Why didn't you enjoy the fight?"

"He weren't no match for me. He's just a scrawny fella."

The prosecutor quickly changed tactics. "You carry a .45, isn't that right, Mr. Cartwright?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Corey Watts was killed by a bullet from a .45."

"Not from my gun."

"Two rounds were missing from your barrel."

"I shot at a rattler when I was settin' up camp."

"The Sheriff didn't find a rattlesnake."

"I missed him, scared him off."

"What exactly did you say to him? When you threw him out of the saloon?"

Hoss frowned and looked down in shame. "I told him if he bothered the lady again, I'd kill him."

A murmur spread through the crowd, and the judge had to bang his gavel to restore order.

"Let me recap... You came into town after a long trip, had a little too much to drink, saw an excuse to get into a fight, one of your favorite pastimes, threatened to kill him, saw him on the main road outta town, the same one you'd seen Mollie Pinkle on earlier, followed him and made good your threat."

Hoss was furious. His mouth was a flat line, and his hands were clenched into fists. "That ain't true," he growled.

The prosecutor smiled. "No more questions, your honor." He sauntered back to his chair.

"Redirect?" Harry shook his head. "Witness may step down."

Hoss stood up a little too quickly and winced, grabbing his side. He slowly made his way back to the table.

"Defense would like to call Mrs. Mollie Pinkle to the stand."

The crowd broke into excited conversation. As the judge pounded his gavel, Mollie walked up through the crowd and into the witness stand.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do." Her voice wavered, but she did look determined.

Ben, Adam, and Joe all unconsciously folded their hands together.

"Mrs. Pinkle, would you please recount the events of last Tuesday night?"

"I was in the saloon...I work there sometimes, when money gets tight...singing, for tips. Corey Watts was there. He stopped me when I took a break from singin', and told me he was gonna come to my house that night."

"Did you have any reason to believe that he might do that?"

"Y-Yes...He'd done it before. I didn't want him to come to my house, so I tried to laugh it off, told him he'd been drinkin' too much, and to go on home. Well, he kept pawin' at me. Finally, I couldn't stand it no more. I hollered at him to stop it, and I reckon that's when that big feller heard us."

"What happened then?" the attorney prompted.

"It was just like what he said. He told Corey I didn't want his company, and then Corey swung at him, and they's into it. Then the big fella threw Corey outside. I didn't hear the threat, though. I was already runnin' out the back door by then."

"What happened next?"

"I rode on home, well, to my Ma's house."

"You take the main road to your mother's, or did you take a side path?"

"The main road, of course."

"Your horse has a lopsided shoe, isn't that right?"

"Well, yeah, one side's a bit fatter than the other."

"And you're sure you took the main road that night?"

"I already told you I did," she answered nervously, angrily sweeping a stray lock of hair off of her forehead.

"Well, Mrs. Pinkle, then how do you explain the fact that your horse's prints were found off the road, as if you'd been hiding there, watching the main road?"

A long silence followed, and there was some murmuring in the crowd. The judge silenced the crowd and Mollie took a long slow breath. "I started for home, but I was afraid to go there because I knew Corey would show up. He's done that before you see, and hurt me, and I was afraid. Jimmy, my son, he was at my mother's, but I've lived in this town all my life, and Corey knew where she lived too. The last thing I wanted was for Corey to hurt my Mama." She cleared her throat, and accepted a glass of water from Harry. After taking a sip, she continued. "I waited by the road. I don't know what I was thinkin', just that I couldn't go home, and I couldn't go to Mama's. I saw the big fella go by. Then Corey came by, and I just got so mad..." She wiped away the tears that were forming in her eyes. Her voice became strained, but she continued, "I just got so mad, thinkin' about what he was plannin', that I took out my .45 and I shot him."

The crowd burst into conversation. All of the Cartwrights breathed a sigh of relief. After several minutes, the judge managed to regain control of the courtroom. "I wasn't tryin' to kill him. After I done it, I ran to him, and took his handkerchief and tried to stop the bleeding. It weren't no use, though. Well, then I got scared, so I got on my horse and went straight to Mama's house. It was the wee hours by then, so I just stayed the night at her house."

"You said that Corey had hurt you before. How did he hurt you, Mrs. Pinkle?"

She swallowed hard, as if this would be harder to say than the announcement she'd just made. "'Bout four years ago, while Everett, my husband, was away, workin' a cattle drive, Corey followed me home. He forced his way into my house and...and...had his way with me." Murmurs from the crowd rose again. She waited, and continued when they were quiet. "I ended up with Jimmy cause of that night. That's when Everett stopped workin'. He stayed with me, all that time, through the pregnancy, only workin' when he knew he was close enough to get home quick." She turned to face some of her neighbors on the jury. "You folks thought he was no-account, but he was so good to me. He even showed me that I could love Jimmy, in spite of how he come to be. That's why I was afraid of Corey Watts. And I reckon that's why I shot him."

"No further questions, Your Honor." Harry returned to his seat and patted Hoss on the back as he sat down.

The Prosecutor took his position in front of the witness. "Well, Mrs. Pinkle, let me be the first to say I'm so terribly sorry for all the grief you've had to endure these past four years."

"Thank you," she said uncomfortably.

"But you do understand, Ma'am, that I wonder if it isn't your design to try to... improve... the public opinion of your husband by marring the memory of the man I've been called here to represent. Mrs. Pinkle, where is your husband?"

"He's workin' somewhere near Sacramento."

"Where?"

"I don't know exactly, just that it's near Sacramento. He sends me a bank draft once a month, for me and Jimmy and Mama."

"But it's difficult for you, isn't it?"

"Well, I reckon it's difficult for a lot of folks."

"You have to work in the saloon sometimes?"

"Once in a while, yes."

"It must be so hard, a fine, upstanding, church-going woman like you, having to stoop to the rank of a saloon-girl to make ends meet, all because of a no-account husband."

"He ain't no-account, he's a good man."

"You must worry a lot about Jimmy, what kind of life he'll have."

She glanced around the room nervously, and spotted him in the arms of the preacher, napping. "Sure I do."

"Not much of a legacy to leave him if somethin' happened to you."

"Not yet," she said softly.

He stood and faced the jury, and his voice rang out with the power of an opera singer. "The Cartwrights are very wealthy, isn't that true?"

A look of confusion crossed her face and she shrugged. "Don't know. I reckon I've heard they are."

"Rich enough to take care of your mother and son if you rescued Hoss from the noose?" Again, the crowd burst into conversation. Ben leapt to his feet angrily, but Adam pulled him back into his seat. "No more questions, Your Honor."

After order was restored, the Judge looked at Harry. "Redirect?"

Harry stood and marched over in front of Mollie. He gave her his friendliest smile and spoke loudly and clearly. "Mrs. Pinkle, did anyone bribe you to accept responsibility for the murder of Corey Watts?"

"No."

"Thank you."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The Cartwrights waited in the cell block to be called back to the courthouse. They'd been waiting for two full days, and the wait didn't appear to be getting any shorter. In sympathy, the Sheriff had allowed all the Cartwrights to wait in the tiny cell. Joe tried to engage Hoss in a game of checkers, provided by Sheriff Flynt, but Hoss was unable to concentrate.

Suddenly, Hoss picked up two stacked checkers and threw them at the solid wall in the back of the cell. "Dadburnit, why don't they decide somethin'!"

"Now, Hoss," Ben said, moving closer to his middle son, "You know Harry said the longer it takes, the better it looks for us."

Hoss raised his fingers to his temples and rubbed them gently, shutting his eyes. "I know it, Pa, but I just can't stand the waitin' any more."

Ben grabbed the back of his son's neck and massaged it. "I understand how you feel, Hoss, but there just isn't anything else to be done."

Adam picked up the wayward checkers and squeezed them until they left red lines in his palm. Joe's voice began, very softly, behind him. "Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name..." One by one, the others joined in.

When the word finally came to return to the courthouse, Hoss' heart was in his throat. He walked slowly, savoring the support of his family, who were walking just behind him. He entered the courtroom without incident, and sat down. His brothers and father all stretched out their hands and held onto his shoulders and back while they waited for the judge to enter.

After calling court back to order, the judge instructed Hoss to rise. He did. "Has the jury found a verdict?"

Lernette spoke as foreman for the jury. "Yes, your honor, we have." He glared at the three men who'd been on the lynch mob.

"And what has the jury found?"

"Not guilty," he said, smiling at Hoss. A cheer erupted in the room, and the four Cartwrights clung to each other in joy.

* * *

"Pa, here's a letter from Heck Flynt." Adam handed it over. Joe and Hoss looked up with interest from their seats in front of the fire.

Ben opened it and scanned it quickly. He took a breath and read out loud: "Dear Cartwrights, I just wanted to inform you of the fate of Mollie Pinkle. Her trial ended yesterday. It was quite an emotional ordeal for everyone involved, and to my satisfaction, justice was served. She was found guilty, but with cause, and the judge sentenced her to a five year probation right here in Bridgeport. She is to be under my supervision throughout the five years, and I tell you, I sure look forward to seeing that little Jimmy growing up. Everett has come home for good. He took a job at the Livery and does odd jobs for the preacher. I sure am sorry for all the suffering you folks went through, but when I look out at my town, and see the kindnesses being passed back and forth between folks, I can't help but to believe that some good has come of it all. I wish the best for all of you, Sincerely, Heck Flynt."

Ben, Adam, and Joe, all waited to hear Hoss' reaction. He looked at each man in turn, and said, "I sure am glad that lady won't have to face a gallows. And that she'll get to raise her boy."

Ben moved to him and squeezed his shoulder. "It sure was a rough road, wasn't it, son?"

"It sure was, Pa," he agreed. Hoss lifted his head and grinned. "Ain't it time for dessert?"

The Cartwrights laughed and headed for the kitchen.

THE END


End file.
